Sitting on my pen really hurts
Like a quill in the ass
In the rain.

Holding a flood back, like a damn liar
Trying to keep the final retreat
of peace that has left.

No self respect. No dignity.
No desparation can one despise him

fo what he has done, and not done.
Unknown but to his heart and semi-lucid mind.

For the clouds of caring and love
Shift their percipitation and regulation
To favor the happiness of her.

And so he lies. She will not be happy
With the truth
And that's what matters
Is that she's happy.